


never been shown to you

by erintoknow



Series: Aria [15]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Found Family, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transitioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: Get too close and holes in your story will be obvious. Stay too distant and you'll start seeming suspicious.Still, it's just a birthday party. Where's the harm in that?
Relationships: Anathema & Sidestep (Fallen Hero), Ortega/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)
Series: Aria [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399939
Comments: 17
Kudos: 35





	1. by yourself

**Author's Note:**

> [[Lantern]](https://aylanereo.bandcamp.com/track/lantern)

Summer, 2009

It was going to be fine. It would be fine. It had to be fine. Why wouldn’t it be fine? Everything was fine. It’s not like Ortega hasn’t seen your face at this point, so has Anathema, Sentinel. If there was some sort of ‘wanted’ database with your face in it, it either looked different enough at this point on HRT (you don’t really see it, to be honest) or no such database actually existed with you in it. If the Rangers seeing unmasked hadn’t resulted in the Farm taking you back at this point, attending a surprise party for Anathema’s birthday wasn’t going to do it.

Right?

It was fine. Had to be.

Oh god, please be fine.

A party means civilian clothes.

You lean in over the bathroom mirror, fighting down the revulsion as you inspect your face. Did this eyeliner look okay? Almost poked yourself in the eye at least three times. Done it over at least twice now, was it? Don’t need to do anything too dramatic to your face. Just make it look ‘normal.’

It was, perhaps, a pretty damning statement on society that you _needed_ make-up in order to look normal, but there wasn’t time to unpack that right now. Clean up the mess of cosmetics scattered across the sink, after one less inspection of your jawline. Sufficiently de-blued. Growth had mercifully slowed enough by now that you’ll _probably_ be safe for the rest of the night.

Just as long as no one gets close.

* * *

You pull the halves of your cardigan together. Already know you’re going to die dressed like this in the heat today, but it still doesn’t feel like enough layers.

“Are you alright?”

Quick glance in Ortega’s direction only to catch her doing the same. Quickly avert your eyes. Feels weird to be up on the roof of the Ranger HQ for a party of all things. You and Ortega where the last ones to arrive. Sunstream, Sentinel, and even Steel, surprisingly, are all here already.

All that’s left is the guest of honor to show up. “I’m fine.” Can feel the sweat running down your back, sticking to your bra. Learning about all kinds of new gross feelings with your adventure towards womanhood.

Ortega shakes her head. “It’s hot as hell out,” she presses. “Gonna look bad if I get my sidekick sent to the morgue from heatstroke.” She laughs, as if that somehow disarms the barb in her comment.

“Used to… w–worse.” Some of those days on the Farm, when the air condition had broken… pretty sure that had seen some casualties.

Sentinel and Steel sit the other table, looking out over the city stretching below. Tempting to listen in, telepathically or otherwise. Steel would see that kind of thing as more evidence of your untrustworthiness, but that kind of only makes you want to do it more. The two of you stand in silence before Ortega picks the conversation back up, her voice light, like she’s expecting you wap her. “So, you _are_ my sidekick then?”

Don’t rise to the challenge. Just roll your eyes. “Don’t push it, Sparkles.”

“Haha, ouch.”

Hardly anyone seems to care about your appearance except to echo Ortega’s concern. Should you be grateful or disappointed that you had been psyching yourself up for nothing?

Pick up a note of confusion from down below. “Themmy’s here.”

Ortega perks up at that. “Everybody! Get in your positions!”

“It’s not an ambush.” Steel shakes his head, staying seated.

Sunsteam laughs, “It kind of is, though, isn’t it?”

When everyone yells “SURPRISE” as Anathema steps out from the roof access, you stay quiet. Wave a hand instead as Anathema takes in the sight, see the ‘Happy Birthday Anathema’ awkwardly pinned between the two tables on the roof.

She mouths something, silent. You can feel her cursing in shock inside her head. Finally, she blinks tears out of her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “Damn. You – wow – you guys really didn’t need to do this.”

Ortega is already at her side, patting her on the back and guiding her to the cake. “It’s not much. Just the team and some cake. But…” She shrugs, smiles. “I wasn’t about to let you pass another birthday by yourself.”

You breath a sigh of relief, watching Anathema cut the first slice, mingle with the rest of the Rangers. Ortega catches your eye, and waves you over. You point at yourself, raising an eyebrow as you chew your lip. Ortega convinced you to come, but that doesn’t mean you belong here.

She rolls her eyes, breaks from Anathema’s side to march towards you. “Com’on, Ari, don’t hide in the corner. At least give Themmy a hello.”

“Ortega!” Anathema huffs, catching up behind her, a paper plate with a slice of cake on it in each hand. “It’s fine, really.” She nods in your direction, flashes a quick smile as she pushes one of the paper plates towards you. “I appreciate you coming at all.”

Can’t stop the smile from forming on your face. “R–really? I mean… thanks.” Carefully, you take the plate and accompanying fork. “Um. Happy birthday? Sorry I d–don’t, uh, don’t have a present.”

Anathema shakes her head. “Oh no, don’t worry about it. This, uh, this is already kind of embarrassing.”

You laugh with her.

“So,” Ortega watches you from the corner of her eye. “when’s your birthday?”

You tilt your head, confused smile still on your face. “That’s, uh– what?”

“We’ve been working together over a year now, it’s got to happen sometime, I’d bet.”

“Oh.” You say. “Um.” You append. What kind of date would you even given for that, anyway? Unless, wait – “Uh… M–march? I guess. The twentieth.” The day you started HRT seems as good a candidate as any.

“The first day of spring?” Anathema looks thoughtful, “Not a bad date.”

Ortega shakes her head, snapping her fingers. “We already missed this year.”

“Oh well.” You catch Anathema’s eye, the two of you share a quick smile. Glad you came after all. Glad to have Anathema to talk to. She ‘gets it’ at least in part. Like Chelsea, and very much unlike Ortega, she doesn't push an issue. Giving out an actual date was kind of a dumb move. Getting too comfortable around the Rangers maybe. It doesn’t matter though.They’ll have long forgotten by the time March 20th rolls around again.


	2. surrounded

Spring, 2010

Throw yourself left, hit the ground hard into a roll as metal clangs against the asphalt where you’d just been standing. Catastrofiend hisses, pulling back to take another swipe. Come on, where’s Sunstream? You and Ortega got the bastard out in the open, time to step up.

Ortega moves in, arms crackles with static discharge as she grabs onto Castrofiend’s artificial arm, sending arms of lightning running through it. Catastrofiend screeches, jerking her arm back, bowling over Ortega with the flat of her blade. The monster stays focused on you, stalking forwards as you back up down the street. Any day now, Sunstream. That would be great thanks!

Catch a glint of light glowing behind Catastrofiend, a familiar, focused mind at its source. Thank god. Close your eyes and twist away in time as a bolt of focused light pierces through Catastrofiend’s shoulder, the edges glowing red. Can feel the thorns of her thought at the edge of your awareness, curling up around the pain.

One on one, the Catastrofiend is more then a match for any of you. Working together though… and the odds are a little less in her favor. Another laser bolt of focused light strikes through her again as Catastrofiend turns tail. Wordlessly the the three of you, take after her. Sunstream bringing up the rear, one hand overhead bathing the streets in light.

It’s not enough. Once again, as soon as Catastrofiend turns a corner, she’s vanished.

Stretch out with your talents, try to pick up Catastrofiend’s discordant note. Nothing. Just like last time. How is she doing that? “Fucking…” Curl your hand into a fist. “Got away again.”

Ortega claps you on the shoulder. You wince at the impact under your mask. “But no casualties this go around. It’s only a matter of time. The Rangers always get their man.”

Pick Ortega’s hand off your shoulder. “You shouldn’t even – even be out here yet, old lady. You pop those stitches, I’m n–n-not sewing you back together again.” Honestly, you’re glad Ortega was here, but you’ll be significantly less glad if she puts herself right back in the hospital, the idiot.

“Hey, 28 is _not_ old!” Ortega huffs, crossing her arms. “And a true Marshal has to lead from the front, right Sunstream?” She winks, giving the other woman a thumbs up.

Sunstream laughs, looking uncomfortable. “I guess so.”

You huff, punching Ortega in the shoulder. “That’s not a fair question. She–she–she’s not going to contradict her _boss_ , you idiot.” Ortega laughs, rubbing her shoulder as you turn to Sunstream, “Thanks for the help tonight.”

Sunstream smiles back at you. “We should be thanking you, Sidestep. You’re the one who’s been helping us.” She sighs, turning her head to look at around the neighborhood of ruined and decaying houses. This part of the city still hasn’t been properly rebuilt after the 80s earthquake. “This part of town always gives me the creeps to be honest. I wonder what on earth Catastrofiend was doing over here?”

Ortega frowns. “Hopefully we just stumbled on her camping out or something. I didn’t see any signs of fighting back there, did you pick up anything Ari?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Ortega sighs, then claps her hands together. “Well, I think patrolling in groups is probably the way to go forward, at least until this mess is sorted. She’s not so tough when she’s out numbered.”

Sunstream nods, stretching her arms out in front of her. “I think so too, but there’s only five of us. Uh–” She glances at you, “Six, I guess.”

“Don’t tell Steel that,” you shoot back, voice wry. “W–well, if you need more bodies, I guess there’s always… more vigilantes out there that ought to be willing to step up.”

Ortega shakes her head. “Not as many as you might think.” She shrugs and shares a quick glance with Sunstream. “You gonna be busy tomorrow, Ari? We should do a planning session. See if we can work out any sort of pattern in sightings and attacks.”

You perk up at that. “Y–yeah! Sure!” Drum your fingers against your chin, chew at the inside of your cheek. “Catastrofiend is…. terrifying but she’s too smart to just be…” You shrug, pacing between the two women. “There has to be some sort of motivation. Some way to out predict her…”

Ortega laughs, “Does, like, 3 work? I’ll need time to wrangle everyone together.”

You wave assent, only half-listening to her. “Yeah, sure. Three p.m.? I’ll be there.”


	3. ambush

Push the door open with your hip, one hand holding a chocolate milkshake, the other a list of Catastrofiend sightings and a folded up map of the city and its surroundings. “Okay, guys s–so–so I’ve been looking at this all night and…”

You blink.

The conference room table has been pushed against the wall. Is that a… cake? Streamers hung from the ceiling with a pile of balloons. Anathema gives you a weak smile. Sunstream and Sentinel wave politely from the corner. Ortega stands in the center of room, takes a deep breath. “SURPRISE!”

“W–what the f–f–f–fuck…?” You go stock still, staring at them all. “…huh?”

A brief look of uncertainty flickers across Ortega’s face. “It’s your birthday today, isn’t it? March 20th?”

“I– but–” Did you tell her that? Why would you tell her that? How did they hide this from a telepath? Why would she even – you’re not a Ranger. You’re just… some random shmuck. Your heart pounds in your throat, ears. “I can’t… um…” Everyone’s looking. Thinking. What’s wrong with you – what’s wrong with you – what’s wrong with you?

“…Ari?” Ortega frowns, stepping towards you. “You okay? Not going to start crying on us now, are you?”

“I’m sorry.” You choke out. “This is uh… I… I gotta– I gotta go. B–bye.” Ortega yells something after you but you pull back into the hallway, dropping the papers and milkshake to the floor as you take off running. Skip the elevator, faster down the stairs. Nudge Sarah at the reception desk to look the other way as you run past, out the door.

Don’t stop running until you can’t anymore. Legs burning, lungs aching. Hold yourself up against the side of a store. People staring. Fuck. Don’t look. Go away. You have to – you have to get off the street. Duck into the alley, find the fire escape, climb up, scaling the wall the last bit to get to the roof.

Safer up here. No one can sneak up on you. No one is going to surprise you. Everyone is safely at dozens of feet away, milling about their own business, unconcerned with you and yours. You collapse to your knees in the middle of the roof, safely out of sight from the street. Curl into a ball as you bury your face. Shallow breaths, fuck breathing exercises. You fucked up again, goddamnit. Normal people don’t react like that to having a party thrown for them.

This is it. They’ll figure it out for sure this time. They’ll catch you and send you back. Three years on your own… well, it was a good run. You curl your hands into fists. Fuck. Gotta – gotta get it together, idiot.

Don’t know how long you stay like that before you pick up something familiar. Sentinel? In the sky above. Fuck. Don’t notice. Don’t look. Don’t see. Must have fucked up again, pushed too hard, because Sentinel catches sight of you on the roof. Note of alarm as he descends. Can feel the wind curl around him, running across you.

“So this is where you got off to.” Sentinel touches down, doesn’t even make a sound. “You gave everyone a freight running off like that.”

You don’t respond. Maybe if you ignore him he’ll go away. Sentinel walks closer, still keeping his distance. “You doing okay?” When you don’t respond, he eases himself down to the ground next to you. “Oof, my knees are going to murder me for this later.” He shakes his head. Sighs. “This is a little… immature don’t you think, Sidestep?

“F–f–fuck off.”

He laughs. “Yeah, okay. You know Charge was going to ask you join the Rangers today, right?”

You sit up. “What?”

“You’d be a good fit. That’s not just the Marshall saying that either, you know.”

“I… I can’t.” No background to check. No Government ID. There’ll be questions. They’ll figure things out. It isn’t fair. You can only stretch lies so far before they break. Better to never be asked at all. “I–I–I can’t do the – the background check.”

“You know they won’t publicize your name right?”

“What?” What is he talking about – oh. Sentinel’s thoughts. So close to the mark but hasn’t made the jump yet. Shit. Fuck.

“You’re an adult, the National Security Council isn’t going to knock on your parents’ door and ask their permission.” He laughs to himself. “Don’t think we’d have any Rangers if they did. There’s enough obstacles as it is.”

You stare at the man. Don’t know if you’ve ever taken the time to really examine him. The two of you haven’t talked much. If Ortega is old, then Sentinel was ancient. Part of the original founding Rangers Team thirteen years ago. Dark-skinned, hair in dreadlocks, originally from Puerto Rico was it? Suddenly not sure on that. Came out as a man eight years ago. Before your time but it’s earned him more than a few biography books in the library. So you’ve seen anyway. Something’s stopped you from ever picking one up.

“…was it… difficult for you?”

Sentinel tilts his head, “Joining the Rangers? Well–”

“No,” you shake your head. “I – I mean, um. Coming out.”

“Oh.” Can feel his thoughts swerve sharply in the new direction. Still dangerous, but less likely to ruin your life. “Well… Yeah.” He laughs, brushes his hair back. “Almost got fired over it, believe or not.”

“Th–that’s awful.”

“Marshal Hood had my back.” Sentinel goes quiet. “He was a good man.”

Your chest hurts in sympathy as you look away. “Sorry.”

“You’d have liked him, I think. And Charge likes you, so I think he would have too.”

You swallow back bile in your throat. Trace patterns on your leg. “You think, um, that Hollow Ground…?”

There’s silence, then Sentinel shakes his head. “No. If Hollow Ground even exists, they aren’t any one person. There’s too many contradictory reports.” Can feel it echoing in his head. False reports, dead ends, empty leads, promising informants turning up dead.

“But Ortega–”

“Hood was my best friend. But… he was like a second father to her.” Sentinel sighs, rests his head in his hand as he stares out into the city. “She took his death… really hard. I don’t know if you saw it, but the day she was sworn in she vowed to put the man responsible behind bars.” He turns to look at you. “Don’t get me wrong, if anyone could do it, I think Julia Ortega can. There’s a damn good reason she’s Marshal now and not me or Chen. But…”

It doesn’t feel that long ago, and yet it was last year, wasn’t it? An eternity from when you first hugged Ortega. In the aftermath of the break-in that saw a host of her keepsakes from Hood being stolen. Had never seen her like that before. “Does… Ortega not have…?”

Sentinel winces, waggles his hand. “That’s not really my place to talk about. Her mom is a good person though.” Great cookies, he doesn’t say out loud. “ But she doesn’t let people in easily, and I get the feeling neither do you. Give her a break, she’s taking your running away like this pretty hard.”

“I don’t…” You cough, squeeze your eyes shut hard as you try to keep a hold of yourself. “I didn’t even remember telling her it was my birthday.”

“But you see what I mean, about if anyone could do the impossible, it would be Charge? Who else was going to pull off a surprise party for a telepath?” He smiles at you. Thinks he’s being reassuring but the question is anything but.

“I – I can’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want… people to, to notice – remember me. It’s not…” The whole point of Sidestep as an identity was to protect yourself. Only, that’s already come apart. They’ve seen your face. You’ve given them a name. It doesn’t matter how much it hurts. You have to put the breaks on this now. Before it’s too late.

“Bad news Sidestep. The only way that’s happening is if you go live like a hermit up in a mountain. And even that’s no guarantee.” With a mumbled complaint at his joints, he pushes himself up, stretches his arm. “You should talk to her. Work this out. If Charge went too far, then tell her that. Don’t clam up and hide away on the roof of a thrift shop. Whether you join officially or not, you’re still part of the team.”


	4. team-up

Been a couple days since you’ve seen any of the Rangers. Haven’t been back. You… really over-reacted, didn’t you? It was just… You don’t ‘do’ birthdays. Do you even have a real one? Can you even be sure of how old you are? There’s probably some government record buried in a Directive file on the Farm.

You stroll down the sidewalk, no particular destination in mind. Weird to think how muchspace the Rangers have taken up in your life that you aren’t sure what to do with your time now. There’s a few bars on this street. Maybe you’ll people watch.

God, you must be bored if you’re resorting to _people watching_.

Slow down as you near the entrance and – oh, there is definitely something going down in there. Well… if you helped break up the fight, better than the police right? Not even inside when the noise of people yelling overwhelms everything else. Lot of emotion running high in here. Enough to make your shoulders tense as you pull a song tight around yourself and try to block the worst of it out.

Step over the bouncer, passed out on the ground by the door. Oh, that’s a good sign. All the lights are on and a very upset looking bartender is yelling at a group circling each other at the far end of the bar. One of them is a woman with a long black braid – “…Ortega?”

Someone else catches your eye, waves you over with a weak smile on her face. “Hey, Steps.”

“Th–themmy?” You stare at her, glance back at Ortega who laughs as she ducks a bar stool swung at her face before uppercutting a guy with a war vet tattoo.

Anathema sighs, following your gaze over to Ortega. “Got here just in time, as usual.”

“What um, what happened?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, she just felt like fighting.”

“Oh.” Both of you flinch as Ortega takes a sucker punch in the gut.

“Shouldn’t we um…?”

Ortega’s face brightens as she catches sight of you and Anathema, gut-puncher’s head in a lock. “Hey! Ari! What are you doing h– oof–” The second guy gets her in the back of the head and she lets go of the first man who shoves her away.

Goddamnit Charge. “Saving y–your ass apparently.” You push through the wrecked tables, grab the guy behind her. “Again.”

“I’m good! Don’t need any help here.” She swings her fist catching the man in front of her across the face, sending him spinning into the wall.

The man in your grip twists against your hands, trying to knee you between the legs. Turn out of the way, grab and bend his arm behind his back, hard enough to get a yell, before tossing him to the ground.

“Why are you picking fights in a bar?” Another opponent moves in, making a grab for you that you dance around.

Julia throws the guy in her hands at him, sending the two of them sprawling to the floor. “S’not picking fights. Just having some, uh, some healthy fun. Yeah.”

“Are you…” You grab at the guy coming after Ortega with a broken chair leg, shove him against the wall. “Are you drunk right now?”

“Me? Pfft, nah.” She laughs, punches the guy in the nose and he slides down to the ground. “Just having some fun. Right guys? …Guys?”

You look around. “I… think your new friends are done playing.”

“¡Merde!” She toes the crumpled form at her feet. The man groans, curling up. “We were… just getting started.” She sighs, rubs a hand at the blood trickling out her nose.

You shoot an accusatory glare at Anathema, who only shrugs. “There’s no talking to her like this.”

As the chorus of groans fade out, the sound of sirens getting louder becomes clear. “S–s–shit.” You grab at Ortega’s arm.

“H–hey!” She bats at you, forcing you to duck your heard.

“We gotta go, _n–now_.” You nod at Anathema indicating the back door. “Help?”

“Only reason I stuck around.”

The two of you manage to get Ortega five feet out the back door when she wriggles free, taking a swing at you. “You’re a jerk, you know.”

You blink. “ _I’m_ the jerk?” Almost forget to dodge her follow up punch. “I–I–I’m not the – the pendaja that–that–that sprung an ambush! Or… apparently goes around beating up drunks!”

Anathema coughs, “Uh, guys…?”

“You are! _You’re_ the pendaja! I spent…” She swings at you again. “I spent all year planning that.” You catch her arm, “You know how many tries before I stopped fucking up the cake?”

“Then s–s–stop being such a – such a try hard!”

“¡Vete a la chingada!”

Anathema grabs Ortega’s other arm before she can swing it. “Seriously. Now isn’t the time.”

* * *

Between you and Anathema, you manage to get Ortega up the steps to her apartment, unlock the door, and lay her out on the couch. Can already feel the bruise forming on the side of your head where she elbowed you. You let out your breath. “Does she, um, does she… do this a lot?”

Anathema returns your look of exhaustion. “Not in a while.” She tilts her head. “What about you, Starstruck? You hanging in okay?”

You quickly pull your hand down away from your face. “Fine. J–just fine.”

“¡Culo!”

You and Anathema exchange looks. You bite your lip, looking away. “Um. I… I think Ortega and I m–maybe have – have some things to um… talk about.” Feel a little dizzy as you say it.

She frowns, glancing at the couch and back to you. “You sure?”

“Y–yeah.” Small smile, try to reassure. “She’s uh… not going to get the better of me like this.”

“Alright…” Anathema gives one last look at Ortega. “And you, you’re going to regret this in the morning ya know.”

A hand with a single finger extended rises up in response. Anathema purses her mouth and raises her eyebrows at you. “Try not to get into any more fights. We need her intact.”

You watch as Anathema leaves. Once the door shuts, you sit down on the floor, head level with Ortega’s. “Um.” She doesn’t look at you, head straight up at the ceiling. “S–sorry.” When Ortega doesn’t say anything in response you press on, curling your hands up against your legs. “I uh… I ruined your party, huh.”

That gets her to turn her head, stare at you. “My party? Ariadne you fucking cabrón, it was _your_ party.”

Frown at that, “My…? I never – never asked for a party, I…”

“Ask…?” Ortega looks at you like you’re crazy. “You don’t have to _ask_ for a birthday party.”

“Well maybe – maybe you should have.” You chew at the inside of your cheek, trace patterns on your leg. “I’m not – We’re just… co-workers. I didn’t.. um, didn’t ask for any of you to–to–to care.”

“Ari…” She doesn’t move from the couch, just stares at you with a pained expression. “We’re your friends, of course we care.”

You shake your head, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. Who she’s talking to. Idiot. Stupid fooled idiot.

“ _I_ care.”

Slam your fist against your leg, “NO YOU DON’T! The last person who said that to me w–w–was a fucking liar!” Saying she cares, that you matter. Letting you get soft. Comfortable. And then you slip up. You tell the truth. And it’s all fucking gone. But it’ll be worse this time because you can’t tell what Ortega’s thinking. Can’t affect it. Can’t make her forget if you screw up.

“I’m not lying.”

“I d–d–don’t believe you.”

“Madre de Dios, Ari, if… I could let you read my mind right now, to prove it to you, I would.” With a groan she pulls herself upright, looks down at you on the floor. “I’m… sorry. I should of asked. I just… well, I wanted to surprise you.” She shrugs, an uncomfortable smile on her face. “I… I messed up, okay? But I want you around. I’d like you on the team, you know. Like… officially.”

You rub at your eyes. Have to take a breath, hands shaking. “I – I can’t.” You choke back something you want to believe was laughter. “I r–r–really can’t.”

“Okay.” Ortega sighs, a sad smile on her face, as if she expected that answer. “How about… do you want to watch a movie?”

“W–what?”

She tosses the remote to you, “Your pick.” She stands up, wobbling slightly. Puts a hand to her forehead. “Ugh. Themmy was right, I am going to hate myself in the morning.”

Can hear her open the fridge as you skim through the channels. Try to find something interesting. A documentary or something maybe. A foot nudges you and you freeze. Look up. A paper plate is lowered in front of your face. You take it, staring at the slice of chocolate cake, uncomprehending.

“Hey,” Ortega tilts her head, smiles. “I know I’m a couple days late, but… Happy Birthday.”


End file.
